


Melody of March

by ghostfox11



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/M, Scrub In
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-10 06:15:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15943454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostfox11/pseuds/ghostfox11
Summary: Zosia struggles to come to terms with both Tristain’s attack and killing him. Who better than Oliver to help her do it?  What will it mean for their relationship when he does?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Artwork: Melody Of March](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15934709) by [JD543](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JD543/pseuds/JD543). 



> I want to thank the Scrub in Creators for coming up with this amazing idea and for organising it so well. I also want to thank my Cheerleader Katie and my artist Jade who has created an amazing artwork to accompany this fic.

Oliver stumbled into the locker room. It was the first place he thought to look. It was where she went to clear her head, he had found her standing in here enough times to know that. It was where they talked. Maybe it was nothing to do with her really? Maybe it was more to do with the fact that this was the place they seemed to find each other and where they had shared their first kiss? It was also the place where they lost each other when he walked out the door.

He stumbled in and saw her. A dark shadow against the far away wall facing away from the door.

“Zosh?” he asked, his voice uncertain.

She turned at the sound of his voice. She looked so scared, like a little girl. He wanted more than anything to hold her, but he knew better.

“Your dress is ripped.” Okay so maybe he didn’t know much better because that was definitely not the best thing to say and he cursed himself as he watched her try to hide it from him.

“Zosh what’s happened?” It was a small step in the right direction. She looked like she might answer but then she froze, and the words were lost.

He moved towards her, slowly and making sure that she didn’t feel trapped. It became obvious that that wasn’t going to happen since she was standing in a corner. “Zosh do you think you can come and sit down?” He stopped at the bench, the place they had sat those months ago talking about Arthur’s illness and her inability to cope. She looked scared then. But nothing like this.

She hesitated for a moment before she put one shaking foot in front of the other and carefully, as though frightened that some punishment would come to her, moved towards him and sat down.

He sat beside her, careful to make sure that they didn’t touch despite how badly his heart was telling him he had to he knew in his gut that she didn’t need it. “Zosh I’m here now, okay? You’re safe but I need to know what happened or I can’t keep it that way.”

She had her back half to him, her face turned away. He wasn’t sure if it was fear or shame that was keeping her from looking at him. Then the room was flooded with blue as an ambulance raced past the window. But it wasn’t her face that had caused his stomach to drop. It was her neck and the bruises on it.

“Oh Zosia,” the words escaped him before he could stop, his hand had reached for her and she flinched, turning away even more and looking like she would run away if she had the energy. Her shoulders started to shake. “I’m so sorry, please I’m going to move closer alright?” Oliver waited and saw her nod. He slid along the bench so that his hip touched her back. “I’m not going to hurt you, you can trust me I promise.” He didn’t know what he was promising exactly but it felt like the right thing to say. “Let me hold you.”

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting in response: for her to run, or cry more, maybe even shout at him, but he wasn’t expecting her to collapse on him. For that was what she did. She turned and all at once her arms were around his neck, and her face was tucked into his chest, and she was holding him like he was her anchor against the wave of tears she was succumbing to.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, one arm wrapped around her waist to pull her closer, the other rubbing soothing circles on her back, like he used to when she was too wired to sleep. “I’ve got you.”

They sat, entwined until her tears had stopped. When her breathing was mostly calm he stopped rubbing her back and instead pulled away slightly but not far enough that her arms moved from around his neck. “Talk to me?”

She took a breath before she looked up at him. The shock was gone from her face, she looked less panicked but still scared. “Tristan Wood. I had to stop him, I wanted to get her passport. I wanted to call the police, but he grabbed me, and he threw on the ground. His hands were around my neck, I couldn’t breathe Ollie. I thought I was going to die, I wouldn’t have done it otherwise, you know I wouldn’t don’t you?”

Completely perplexed, it took Oliver a second to piece together what she was saying. He had no idea what the passport was about, but he knew very well who Tristan Wood was. “What did you do?”

“I hit him. I hit him with a glass statue thing it must have fallen when he pushed me to the floor. I never meant to…I just wanted him to…I didn’t want to die.”

Her tears looked like they might come back so Oliver didn’t press her further. He pulled her back into his chest. “Okay Zosh, you never meant to do it. I’m going to sort this okay?” she nodded against him. “Where is he?”

“I,  I don’t know, we were in the office but Jemima was there when I left, she saw him, she must have got help musn’t she?” At the panic in her voice Oliver nodded despite his true beliefs.

If Zosia had hit him hard enough to knock him out he couldn’t exactly be healthy but there was no reason for him to definitely be dead. Jemima would surely have gotten help and if she had then Tristan would either be in theatre or in a cubicle on Keller. Oliver scrubbed his hand over his face and took a second to breathe. He would check the office first and if he wasn’t there he would check elsewhere.

“Yeah, I’ll just go and check what’s going on.” He resisted the urge to kiss her head when he pulled away.

“I’m going to get changed.” It was the most like Zosia she had sounded.

Oliver smiled at her, “I’ll be back.”

She nodded and smiled slightly, as he turned to leave she called after him, “Ollie?” he turned at the door, “If you see my dad can you tell him to come down, I need to-“

“Of course,” Oliver cut her off. “I’ll find him.”

“Thanks,” she smiled and this time it met her eyes.

“Anytime,” Oliver turned and closed the door. He forced himself to walk slowly until he had turned the corner then he sprinted for the office hoping he wouldn’t be too late, hopping it was Guy who they had in there and hoping that the woman he loved wasn’t about to be branded a killer.


	2. Chapter 2

When Oliver turned the corner into the quiet halls of Darwin he nearly crashed into a porter. “Sorry mate,” he apologised, and he was just about to continue on his path when he heard the porter turn to another and say. “What’s going on in here tonight? The chairman ends up in theatre and the doctors decide to sprint about in suits.”

“What?” Oliver interrupted, back at the man’s side in a minute. “What happened to Tristian?”

“He’s in theatre two with Guy Self. Hurt his head badly it seems. Don’t see any sympathy for me, rich guy like him can afford the time off, some of us can’t.” The porter began to huff and continued to push the empty wheelchair away from Oliver who ran off in the other direction.

He found Guy in theatre two standing over Tristan Wood. Oliver watched as he removed his hands from the man’s skull before he spoke, “How is he?”

Of course, Guy all but banked him. He swallowed back his anger and took a deep breath. Then the heart monitor started to beep. He felt like his own heart was racing faster than the monitor. “Guy you have to save him.” He choked out the words trying to look professional in front of an entire operating staff who couldn’t know what had happened. 

Finally, Guy got it under control and moved towards him, “What is it Valentine?”

Oliver stared back at him. They never saw eye to eye, but Oliver still felt guilty at being the one to tell him. He nodded for Guy to exit and meet him outside. He could tell even without him saying it that the threat was there: this better be important. 

“It’s Zosia,” Oliver spoke before the threat could be made. Immediately panic clouded Guy’s stoic face.

“What?” The older man rumbled moving closer into Oliver’s face as though he was the guilty party of whatever had happened rather than the man trying to save her.

“She was attacked. By Tristian.” Guy was already moving before Oliver could finish. He stormed back into the theatre “Johnson close up! I have a family emergency!” He ordered before coming back out to Oliver stripping off his theatre clothes as he did. “Where is she?” he shouted over his shoulder not stopping as he head for the door.

“Locker room,” Oliver replied. 

He followed Guy slowly and lost sight of him past the second set of doors. It wasn’t his plan to catch him. He wanted to give Zosia and him space. So, he waited by the small kitchen looking out of the window and trying to remember to breathe. He wasn’t sure where they even stood together. She might even be going out with Alex and he had no idea. She might not want his help at all. She had her dad now. She-

“Ollie?” at the small voice he turned around to see Zosia standing behind him. She was now wearing what he knew was her favourite outfit. It was the black two piece she kept in her locker. She had explained to him once that it was perfect if they decided to have an impromptu night at Albies and if she were to go out on the town she had a necklace to jazz it up a bit. It was also perfect if she just wanted to go home alone, or not she had added with a wink. “Dad wants to talk in his office?”

From her questioning tone Oliver took it as a que to follow. When he did she smiled slightly, and he couldn’t help but place his hand on her lower back for a second before he remembered. They were friends now and that was over the line. 

He spotted Guy standing at the end of the corridor looking like he wanted to hit someone and for a split second had to think whether or not Oliver would be his punch bag. Oliver looked up at him preparing for a snapped “I’ll take it from here,” but none came. Instead he nodded and allowed Oliver to follow.

They entered his office and sat down. Guy perched on his desk. “What happened Zoshie?”

Zosia began to explain the attack. She used more detail this time. She explained that Tristan had stolen Jemima’s passport and that she had gone to return it. How he had caught her, they had struggled and then… just thinking about the man pinning her to the ground with hands round her throat made him want to be sick. She turned to look at him as though begging him to help. He wanted to pick her up and take her away from this mess, to somewhere she would be safe and happy. Instead he placed a reassuring hand on her knee and whispered, “Its okay.”

Guy on the other hand had an angrier response and stormed from the room to face Tristan himself. As the door slammed shut Zosia turned to look at him, her eyes still full of fear. 

“Come on,” Oliver reluctantly removed his hand from her knee to offer it to her. She took it.

“Where?” her throat sounded sore and he noticed how she pulled the scarf back around her neck as thought to protect it. It gave him reassurance of his plan.

“Staff room I’ll make the tea,” Oliver stood and smiled down at her when she followed. 

When he reached the staff room he busied himself preparing tea for them both and was again fighting against his emotions by making sure there was enough hot water if Guy wanted a cup. But that he wouldn't go out of his way to make him one. 

They waited in silence as he made the tea. “Here you go,” Oliver offered her a cup and she smiled and walked forward to take it from him. 

“Thank you,” she took a generous sip. “Dad said surgery went well.” 

Oliver nodded, he became conscious that his hands were forming fists at the mere mention of Tristan Wood, “Look Zosh I don’t care about that evil,” he paused before he finished, “man.” She smirked at him, giving him the courage to continue, “I care about you.” His hand reached out and stroked her arm, “How are you?”

She smiled up at him for a second, “Shall we sit down?” He nodded and followed her to the couch where they sat close enough that their knees touched when they turned to face each other. 

“I’m still in shock I think. I can’t feel anything never mind think straight.” She paused to sip her tea, he knew she was trying to think about what to say next. 

When she had put the cup down and still not replied Oliver realised it was his turn, “I can call the police for you, if you want. We need to report this. “ 

Zosia froze before nodding, “And if he does die I’ll at least look mildly better in front of a judge.”

“Hey,” the anger in Oliver’s voice made Zosia look up at him, “you’re the vict–“ Oliver stopped when he realised that she was not going to like what he said next.

“Its fine.” Any chance of building a connection again disappeared by the coldness of her voice, “don’t worry about it, it’s true.”

Oliver shook his head, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that”

“No, I know what you meant,” Zosia reached forward and touched his hand, “Call them?”

He nodded back. “I’ll use the office.” He stood and then he noticed the panic start to creep back again on her features, “Hey Zosh, Its going to fine.”

She smiled, “I know, let me finish my tea, I need to gather my head a bit.”

“Okay,” Oliver turned and left.

Oliver reached Guys office and pulled out his phone. Looking down at the screen he tried in vain to think of something to say to the police. No words were able to describe what had happened well enough. 

He threw caution to the wind and dialled 999 telling the woman that he wanted to speak to the police and waiting had felt like an eternity for someone to pick up. “Yes, hello I’d like to report an incident please.” He was interrupted when someone grabbed his phone from behind him.

Looking up in shock he realised it was Guy “What are you doing, was that the police? “he asked.

“Does anyone else know what’s happened?” Guy demanded looming closer to Oliver as he had outside the theatre.

Oliver’s brow furrowed in confusion as he replied, “No I’ve just been with Zosia she was in the staff room what-“

Guy cut him off mumbling under his breath. The anger in Oliver’s chest grew, “Guy what,” his phone started to ring, “Well that’ll be the police.”  
He went to reach for it, but Guy shouted, “Don’t answer it.”

Oliver froze, “Why?”

“Because we are not reporting it.” 

Feeling his anger rise again Oliver shouted “No, that is what you did before you failed to report that man and Zosia’s paid the price.” 

He made a lunge for his phone, but Guy bet him to it. “What are you doing?” Oliver asked, he couldn’t understand what could possibly make Guy think that not telling the police was a good idea.

“Ollie I appreciate that you care about my daughter as much as I do and that is why I am asking you not to report this to the police.” 

The desperation in Guy’s voice forced Oliver to pull back, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“If you report this to the police things will come out that will stay with her forever and could tear her apart now are you prepared to be responsible for that?” Guy countered.  
Usually a threat from Guy would only make Oliver more determined to do whatever he was trying to stop him from doing but something felt different this time. Oliver backed up and listened.

“Listen to me Tristan is willing to keep the authorities out of this.” Oliver couldn’t help but laugh at the audacity of that statement. A man with the power and reputation like Tristan Wood would do anything to keep it and they both knew it. 

“Do you reckon?” 

“I’ve got this under control we need to keep Tristan on side.” 

Before he could reply Oliver heard her voice. “Dad?” 

He turned to see Zosia standing in the doorway looking concerned. She must have heard their raised voices and came to see what was wrong. It took him a second to realise that the look was not in fact concern but anger as she slammed the door shut behind her.

He could tell from the look on her face when she turned again that she had heard enough to know that Guy didn’t want to phone the police. He moved away to the back corner, letting her have space and allowing her to face her father without him being in the way. He removed his jacket and watched as she stalked towards them. “Why would we need to keep Tristan onside?” Guy tried to interrupt her but she continued, “those were your words weren’t they?”

“We have to think pragmatically. Tristan is suffering from severe neurotic trauma.” Guy tried to explain himself but Zosia was so angry even if his argument had been reasonable Oliver knew she never would have listened to it.

“It was self-defence, Jemima saw the whole thing.” Oliver sighed with relief, she had missed that part out both times she told the story. He had been concerned, not that he would tell her, that if it did go to court they wouldn’t have enough evidence to prove their side. That the more powerful and rich would win. It looked like that wouldn’t be the case. All more reason to call the police.

“Yes and she won’t say anything she didn’t even report the rape.” Guy spoke up from behind his desk.

Zosia let out something between a cry and a scream. Oliver had to bite his tongue not to interrupt when Guy continued “Listen darling it is your word against Tristan's and he is unscrupulous he will pull no punches in discrediting you.”

“Discrediting me?”

“Yes.” 

Oliver realised where the conversation was heading just as Zosia did, “Ah I see.” She looked over at him and the look on her face of such anger forced him to look away, “This is because I’m bipolar isn’t it. You’re worried people will think I was manic.”

“It could ruin your career your future,” Guy’s voice sounded weaker now. Oliver knew he was running out of options.

“No Dad it could ruin your career and your future and your big project,” Oliver couldn’t help but admire Guy a little for even trying to interrupt his daughter again. Had she been shouting at Oliver this way he would probably have ran. She was terrifying. “What is it about you dad. What is it that makes you always want more regardless of the cost? What are you still trying to prove?” 

Now that was a question that Oliver had wanted to know the answer to for a very long time. He waited, they both did but no response came. Still angry Zosia grabbed her jacket looked over at Oliver and left. He turned to look at Guy and as they made eye contact he realised that maybe Guy didn’t know the answer either.

Oliver shook his head and reached out to take his phone. “I’m going to find her.” He told him as he too left the office in pursuit of Zosia. 

When he shut the door, he found the corridor empty. Aimlessly he found himself searching for her again: the staff room, the locker room, even the small kitchen but to no avail.   
When he came up empty he decided that maybe she didn’t want to be found, perhaps she wanted space to calm down. If he was honest he didn’t think that even he could make her. The last time he saw her that angry she had broken up with him.

So instead of checking downstairs or outside he made his way back to the staff room again. He closed the door behind him and slowly started cleaning away their mugs of tea which was now passed the temperature he found even remotely drinkable. Zosia would still drink it though, she had drank it ice cold once. He had exaggerated his disgust when he watched her do it when she had left a cup half full after being distracted by the film they were watching. She had laughed and told him it was just like iced tea and there was no problem with it. 

He snapped himself out of his day dream, coming back to the present to find himself staring down into the sink and smiling. Shaking his head, he left the cups to dry and walked over to the window. 

The light pollution made it impossible to see the stars but he looked up at the black sky anyway. “I love you.” 

He found himself whispering those words a lot lately. It was stupid really, like he was practising for the real event but no matter what he did every time he thought of her the words would escape him except when they were face to face. Sure, he had told her many times when they together, and he had told her again the day after they broke up, but ever since he was completely incapable of doing so. 

All he wanted more than anything was to be able to say them whenever he wanted. Be able to kiss her and touch her whenever he could. But he had messed up big time and he knew it.

Suddenly he heard distant talking outside, official sounding male voices and was that Jac?

Confused he walked out to the hall to find the police there shepherding Zosia into a lift and sure enough Jac too.

He spotted Guy and made his way over to him, “You called them?” Oliver asked in shock.

“No.” the response was blunt, Guy didn’t so much as look at him.

Oliver made his mind up immediately, “Right I’m going to the station,” he announced, turning to follow Zosia who had stepped into the lift with the officers.

“I’m coming with you,” Guy added, trying to follow him. 

“No,” Oliver cut him off, seeing red again, “all due respect you are the very last person that Zosia needs right now.” He didn’t give Guy a chance to argue and raced to catch the lift before the doors shut. He wasn’t even sure if he was the person that Zosia needed but he knew it wasn’t Guy.

Then he saw her, and she smiled up at him and he knew that he was.

“What are you doing Ollie?” she asked him, her voice portrayed just a hint of its usual cheeky manner.

“I’m coming with you,” he declared, “That is allowed right?” he asked the officers.

They nodded, “You’ll have to make your own way there, but partners can wait with the person before they give their statement, but you can’t come in with her.”

Oliver waited a second to allow Zosia to correct the officer but when she didn’t he smiled, “Thank you.” He told him before looking down at her. 

She smirked again and looked away as the doors opened. 

Oliver thanked whoever might be listening that Pulses and the entire entrance was miraculously completely empty as they made their way to the police car that was sparked out front.

“I’ll see you there,” Oliver promised her.

The fear seemed to have set in for Zosia merely stared at the car before her before climbing inside.

Oliver’s heart started to beat more rapidly. He hadn’t properly considered what might happen if Tristan died. Forcing himself not to think about it he ran to his car and climbed in hoping that he would make it to the station as they did.

The drive wasn’t long a mere fifteen minutes, but it was enough time to give Oliver the chance to think. He wold wait with her until she gave her statement and when she did he would leave and head back to his flat. It was only five minutes from the station and he knew that things like this took time. Once there he would tidy up the mess from the night before with Jasmine and change the sheets on the bed. He would also pull out the bed from the couch and set that up too. He wasn’t letting her go home alone tonight. 

Luckily, he arrived before Zosia had even made it inside the building. He parked quickly and ran in just as she was being booked in. The receptionist looked at him over the shoulder of the police officer flanking Zosia. The officer noticed, “He’s with this young lady and is quite keen to wait with her.” The receptionist nodded and allowed him to follow the officer and Zosia into a small waiting area. 

“The cameras are on and recording.” The officers informed them, “an officer will be through shortly to take your statement. They will probably want some photos as well and clothes too, for evidence.”

“I left my dress back at the hospital,” Oliver could hear the panic in Zosia’s voice. He placed his hand on her knew again. 

The officer promised that he would get it.

An awkward silence filled the room. 

“Ollie I’m scared,” Zosia confessed she looked over at him.

“It’s okay,” Oliver realised his hand was still on her knee and softly ran his thumb in small circles over it, “You didn’t do anything wrong. We’re here to have that monster away for good not you.”

She nodded, “Still what if something happens to him? What if I’m charged for murder?”

“Then we’ll prove otherwise, but that’s not going to happen okay,” Oliver leant forward and leant his forehead against hers. He did so slowly giving her plenty of time to pull away,   
but she didn’t, instead she sagged against him.

“Thank you.” She lifted her hands to hold on to his shoulders keeping him close.

“You’ve got nothing to thank me for,” Oliver promised. 

They sat holding on to each other until the door opened again revealing a female officer. 

“Miss March I’m here to take your statement.” At the woman’s words Zosia pulled away.

“I’ll be back before you’re finished,” Oliver promised her as he too rose to his feet. Zosia gave him a weak smile and followed the officer off in one direction whilst Oliver ran in the other determined to keep his promise. Miraculously every light seemed to turn to green as he got near and he arrived even quicker than usual. 

He wasted no time running inside and upstairs to the towel cupboard where he kept his spare sheets. He spotted the set they had bought together, a dark red one with white roses. Zosia had insisted that it would bring a bit of colour to his otherwise white minimalistic room. He had to admit that it had looked great. When they broke up he had stripped the duvet and tacked it away and out of sight. Not the first night of course. No, he lay surrounded by her smell on her side of the bed for a week before he had the gumption to wash it. 

He stripped and made the bed as quickly as possible and couldn’t help the small smile on his face when he saw the room back to normal. For it had been normal for those blissful few months. He had missed her so much more than he let on. He had no idea what this was, whether she would ever forgive him enough for them to get back together but he hoped that for at least tonight she would let him look after her. 

He then walked back through to the living room and made the bed up. He wasn’t stupid enough to think that she would let him share the bed and he knew that she would put up a fight. At least this way he knew she would have a comfortable bed to sleep in either way. Once he was done he checked the fridge for food but as he suspected it was nearly empty. He hadn’t felt like cooking for one. 

He decided as he made his way back to the car that he would order a Chinese and when he picked her up, that was if she even accepted his offer at all. 

When he arrived back at the station the receptionist’s face said it all. Something had happened. 

“Sir I never got your name before,” the woman started.

“Oliver Valentine,” he replied. He watched her write it down trying not to show anything on her face but Oliver had enough experience with patients and knew when people were hiding things. “What’s happened?”

He braced himself, holding on to the desk in front of him. “I’m not sure if I should be the one to tell you this but I’m sure you’ll find out anyway. Tristan Wood has died.”  
Oliver felt as though the world had spun on its axis. He had to grip the desk with his other hand to stay standing. Tristan Wood was dead. Zosia March was a killer.  
No Oliver corrected himself, it may look that way on paper, but he knew her better than she would admit to. She was no killer, not at all. 

“I’m sorry Mr Valentine but under the circumstances we can’t let you see her.” The woman explained, “you can wait in the waiting room if you want but they will be questioning her for a bit longer and then she will be put in holding.”

Oliver nodded, “I’ll wait.” He made his way back to the small room and collapsed onto the nearest seat burring his face in his hands. He had no idea what to do next. He felt a buzz in his pocket and pulled out his phone to see a bunch of missed calls from Jac and Guy. In his anger he tossed it across the room not caring that it was an iPhone and would therefore probably be smashed. 

He sat there staring at the floor his head spinning when his phone started to buzz from the corner. He ignored it at first, but it wouldn’t stop. He stood intending to silence it, but something told him that if Guy self was this determined to talk to him then he probably better answer it. 

“What?” he was blunt, but he didn’t care.

“Its Jemima,” Guy answered, “She’s going to confess to what she saw and what he did to her and to Zosia.”

Oliver could have cried, “I’ll tell them,” he hung up and ran from the room nearly crashing into an officer who he recognised from earlier. 

“Excuse me,” he grabbed them man by the shoulder and he turned to face the doctor, “There’s a witness who saw the whole thing, she’s at the hospital.” Oliver was aware that he didn’t make much sense but luckily the officer seemed to understand.

“That’s great news Mr. Valentine I’ll go and let them know.” He started to speed walk in the opposite direction. “Oh and Mr Valentine wait in the waiting room please.” He shouted over his shoulder as he turned the corner and disappeared.

Oliver returned to the small room this time with much more hope in his heart. He paced up and down running through everything in his head. They had to let her go now didn’t they?

Suddenly the door opened just as he had turned to walk towards it. 

“Zosia,” Oliver blurted out. She looked exhausted but had a smile on her face. She ran towards him and collapsed into his chest.

“You came back,” she whispered.

He smiled, “Of course I did I promised you I would didn’t I,” Oliver replied holding her tight, “Not that I’m not glad to see you but I was told I wouldn’t get to.”

“Change of plan they let me wait here seeing as the evidence is so much in my favour now and looks like self defence they thought it would be wrong to keep me locked up like a criminal.” She explained.

He nodded and smiled, “so you can come home?” He never realised what he was saying until he had said it. Luckily, she didn’t seem to notice.

“They want to hear Jemima’s statement first but if its good enough then yeah I can go home.” She pulled away to look up at him. The proximity created its own awkwardness and Oliver had to bite his lip to force himself not to kiss her.

They pulled away slowly and Oliver suggested that they sit to wait. Zosia nodded and they did so his hand finding hers. 

They waited in a more comfortable silence than before. He could see on her face just how tired she was. The adrenalin must have been wearing off, he knew it was for him for he was close to exhaustion as well.

Forty-five long minutes later the door opened and a young woman walked in. Oliver could tell from her power suit that she must have been Zosia’s Lawyer.

“Doctor March you are free to go,” she smiled at her and Oliver felt Zosia deflate beside him.

“Thank you,” they both said at the same time.

The lawyer smiled at them, “The weight of Jemima’s statement and the evidence we have collected shows that this was in no doubt self-defence. There will be a court hearing of course I’ll be in touch with a date but I have no doubt that we can settle this in one hearing. Go home and rest you both deserve it.”

They thanked the lawyer again as she left. 

“Come back to mine?” Oliver blurted out again. 

“Ollie I need to speak to my dad,” Zosia admitted.

“I know,” he replied “But you also need to rest first. You can use my phone to text him and meet him in the morning. Please Zosia you look exhausted and I would sleep much better knowing you were safe.” He cringed as he said the last part, prepared for her to bite his head off but she didn’t. Instead she smiled. 

“Okay,” she said and walked to the door forcing him to follow her the grin on his face luckily hidden. He couldn’t see it, but she was smiling too.


	3. Chapter 3

 

It was three o’clock in the morning by the time they arrived at Oliver’s flat. When they walked into the hall Zosia stopped as she caught sight of the couch now bed.

“What?” she was too exhausted for any more words.

“I want you to take the bed Zosh, I’ll sleep here.” He paused to gage her reaction but she didn’t reply immediately so he continued, “I knew you would argue with me, this way we are both in bed so you can’t use the excuse of-“

“Okay Oliver I’ll take the bed just please stop rambling,” she turned and grinned at him so he knew she was joking.

He smiled in return, “Okay well I’ll sort  you out some clothes if you like?” he offered realising that she would have nothing to sleep in.

When they split up she had came round when he was out and emptied the apartment of all her things. It had hurt but he knew that being there would have hurt more.

“Yes please,” She followed him through to the bedroom. When they arrived, she stopped again at the sight of the bedcovers. He thought she was going to say something about it but instead she asked, “would it be aright if I went for a shower first?”

“Of course,” he replied immediately. “You know where it is, I’ll sort some stuff out for you coming back. Would you like anything to eat?”

She shook her head no. He knew better than to argue. “Thanks,” she said before making her way to the bathroom.

He quickly got to work searching through his wardrobe and drawers for something comfortable for her to wear. He found an old t-shirt of his tucked in the back and a pair of shorts from his football days at the bottom of a drawer.

He contemplated where he should wait and decided to leave the clothes on the bed and get ready for bed himself. Once done he sat on top of the bed in the living room and picked up his book.

He was determined to make it as less awkward as possible so he did his best to read and when that failed and the shower was still running, decide that he would just pretend to sleep when she came out.

Instead he tried to calm his racing mind. He kept seeing her cowering in the corner of the locker room every time he blinked. He kept seeing the scared look in her eyes and hearing her crying. It was tearing him apart but there was nothing more he could do to calm down. The worst part was that he had no idea where they stood and no idea how he could help her either.

Suddenly the shower cut off and Oliver picked up his book and tried to look inconspicuous. Zosia must have spotted the clothes on her way for she stopped at the bedroom. She appeared in the doorway minutes later looking more calm and collected than she had all day. Looking like Zosia.

He had to force himself not to look at her legs in his short and keep his gaze firmly on her face.

“I just wanted to say goodnight,” she said, looking down at him, “and thank you.”

“No problem, do you need anything else?” he asked, when she shook her head no he smiled, “Okay well goodnight.”

Goodnight she replied again and disappeared, satisfied that he at least knew she was safe Oliver did his best to try to get some sleep.

It didn’t really work. He still saw her in distress no matter how hard he tried and eventually he gave up. It was a good thing that he did or else he never would have heard her whimpers.

Immediately he sprung to his feet and without thinking ran to the bedroom.

He stopped in his tracks when he saw her, the duvet was kicked back and her hair had come out of its bun. She was still thrashing around. He made his way over to her slowly, ready to dodge any flying limbs. She had had nightmares before when they were together but nothing like this.

“Zosia? He whispered bending down so that he was level with the bed. That was what he had learned from before, if he posed a threat when her eyes opened she would scream.

“Zosh its okay,” when she still wouldn’t wake up her began to shake her lightly, “Come on wake up I’ve got you.”

Suddenly her eyes flew open and she jumped back away from him.

“Ollie?” she asked into the dark, it was a plead for help not confusion at being in his flat, it comforted and scared him.

“I’m right here,” he tried to reassure her.

She looked down at him crouched on the floor, “What are you doing down there?”

They both looked at each other in shock, he because she had clearly thought he would be beside her and her because he was not.

“Oh,” she seemed to finally have woke up properly, “I’m sorry did I wake you?”

He shook his head, “No I couldn’t sleep, are you okay?”

She nodded, “I’m fine, just a nightmare,” he could tell from the way her hand rose to her neck that she was far from fine.

He rose for his knees were sore, but she seemed to think he was leaving for she begged, “Stay with me?”

He stared down at her. His whole body seemed to freeze. She wanted him to stay? “Okay,” he had spoken before he had truly thought about it. He was still so confused, but then she smiled a small smile and rolled over to her side. He just noticed she was sleeping on his side, allowing him the space to join her.

Warily he did so, holding his breath and not believing what was happening. He lay back flat making sure not to touch her but then she took his hand in hers.

 “Goodnight,” she finally whispered.

“Goodnight,” he replied. As she rolled over she took his hand with her so that his arm became wrapped around her waist. He had to readjust to get comfortable and found himself pressed against her.

He closed his eyes and waited for her to freak out but instead she shifted back into him.

He breathed a quite sigh of relief and smiled. Maybe now they could both get some sleep.

 

When Oliver woke up the next morning he was alone in his bed. Confused for a second he rolled over, looking for any evidence that he hadn’t dreamt the previous day. When he found Zosia’s clothes neatly folded in the corner he nodded to himself.

So it had happened.

But what did this mean for them?

He wanted to be with her, of course he did. But did she?

He had said to Matteo that she needed space as a way to put him off, but it was also the truth. He did think that Zosia needed time. Jac had said it herself, she had a breakdown and he didn’t even notice.

It hurt just thinking about it. But yesterday he noticed. Last night he felt it. She had acted weird towards him at the hospital and when she didn’t show he had felt it. Smothering was wrong. That had to count for something right?

He was still trying to organise his thoughts when Zosia appeared in the doorway. “Ah your awake,” she announced. She stopped where she was, standing their wearing his clothes and looking as beautiful as always in them. She looked as lost as he felt.

“I just got off the phone to Jac,” she continued after a few seconds of awkward silence, “She says ‘I’ve to take two weeks off at least and see occupational health before I can go back to work.”

Oliver nodded, he had no idea what to say.

“I spoke to my lawyer,” Zosia started again when she got no response, “she says there will be a hearing on Friday but it’s just a formality, I won’t be charged.”

“Good,” Oliver smiled at her, “that’s great.”

She nodded, “yeah.”

They both looked away from the other with no idea what to say next. They were barely friends yesterday, but they slept in the same bed last night. She probably thought he was still seeing Jasmine, even if it wasn’t a relationship, and he suddenly realised that she could be seeing someone too.

Maybe time would be for the best for both of them. He didn’t want her to leave but she was looking over at her clothes like she wanted to. Maybe last night was just a one off and she was truly happy with the way things were.

“I should go speak to my dad he’s been leaving messages all night and wants to talk face to face at the hospital.” Zosia wasn’t even looking at Oliver when she  spoke.

“Okay,” Oliver answered. He wanted to say something else something like, I’ll take you or let me help you or please don’t leave but he couldn’t. So, he sat silently as she took her clothes and left to get changed in the bathroom when she once would have stayed just to tease him.

When she returned fully dressed he was no clearer in deciding what he wanted. When she looked over at him and smiled his heart raced again.

“Thank you for everything,” she said, and he knew she meant it.

“That’s what friends are for,” the smiled disappeared. He knew he had said the wrong thing.

“I suppose so,” Zosia’s voice had lost all conviction, “Well I guess I’ll see you when I get back to work.”

She made for the door. He wanted to tell her to stop. He wanted to follow her and pull her back in. He wanted to help her so much it hurt.

But he had to watch her go.

 

 


	4. Epilogue

Almost two years had passed since Zosia walked out the door, leaving him feeling like he had gained so much, yet lost all of it. However, now she lay in the bed beside him, safe and happy if the look on her face and rings on her finger were anything to go by. Whilst their wedding hadn’t exactly gone as planned, with Guy trying to commit suicide, and the shooting which had left Oliver in a coma for a week, causing some temporary memory loss, they had finally reached happiness. So, life was looking to be on the up, not that Oliver let himself believe for even a second that there was no chance of it coming crashing down. It had a way of doing that to him.

Zosia stirred from beside him and detangled herself, sitting up properly to look over him at the alarm clock. He watched her face change from confused, to shocked, in an instant.

“We’re late!” she cried, springing into action. “Ollie its 9 o’clock!”

Oliver groaned. Their shift had started at that second and they were still in bed. Or at least he was. Zosia was on her way to the bathroom and in the shower before he had a chance to properly wake up.

Most mornings he would have joked about saving water and time, but he knew that this morning was not one of those times. Instead he took out his phone, groaning at the missed calls from the hospital and dialled Fletch. If anyone would be able to sweet talk Jac into not giving them too much trouble, it was him.

“You two are screwed, you know that right?” Fletch greeted.

“Our alarm didn’t go off, we’ll be there soon. There’s no way of hiding this from Jac is there?” Oliver asked, despite knowing the answer.

“No chance, she doesn’t go into theatre until ten and noticed you both were absent before I did. You better get ready for a day from hell.”

With that Fletch hung up and Oliver realised that yes, life really wasn’t up for him catching a break.

 

 

Due to the constant jibes and meaningless, but lengthy, tasks handed out to them by Jac, Oliver had barely seen Zosia all day. He had caught a glimpse of her getting debriefed on a case as the patient was wheeled into the ward half an hour ago. She had looked stressed, a strand of hair having come lose from her usually immaculate bun, and he had wanted more than anything to push it behind her ear. The urge changed to one of protection when he saw who the patient was. Mr Stevens had been in before, months previously, when he had tried to grope a nurse and Jac had torn him to shreds. He didn’t want the creep anywhere near Zosia, but he knew better than to intervene. His wife could handle anything if the last years had been anything to go by.

He hadn’t seen her since then and so, when he was finally given a fifteen minute break by Jac, he had rushed to find her. This task had been made easier when he heard her high-pitched scream from the corner bay where the curtains were drawn. Immediately, he whipped them back just in time for Mr Stevens to go crashing into him, before finding his feet enough to rush past screaming a series of words that were so disgusting and foul they made Oliver cringe. His discomfort was immediately replaced with panic when he saw Zosia.

His wife was curled in the corner of the room, one hand clutching her chest, the other on the bed, gasping as though she couldn’t breathe.

“Zosia,” he cried sprinting round the bed and falling to his knees just in time to catch her as she lost her balance and fell.

“Ollie, I can’t,” she choked now clutching at her throat as though she was trying to claw away whatever was restricting her breathing.

Oliver realised with horror that it was almost like she was grasping at a chocking grip. One that wasn’t there but had been almost two years ago. He had thought that they had dealt with the lasting effects of her trauma. To begin with it was car doors slamming that made her jump. He had cornered her in the elevator to kiss her and she would have slapped him on the face had he not ducked in time. Then there were the constant nightmares. But she had been cleared by occupational health, she had seen her psychologist regularly. When everything with her dad was settled they had thought they had put that day and everything associated with it to rest. The shooting had changed that of course.

Whilst Oliver knew that he had been lucky, the bullet had hit his shoulder, the fall and resulting knock on the head causing the most damage, the following few months had been terrifying. The coma had left him disorientated and confused, but thankfully the memory loss had only been temporary, and soon they were off on their cancelled honeymoon and all too quickly back on the wards of Darwin once more. Her nightmares had returned in the time it took them to get there but she had assured him that mentally she was okay, in all the many ways to say it and he had believed her and not forced her to get help. Now however, as she looked at him with such terror, he wished he hadn’t.

“Zosia it’s me Ollie, I need you to focus on your breathing okay? I’m going to help you get comfy all right?” He gently helped her to get settled with her back against the wall. Thankfully the bed hid them from the rest of the hospital. He sat down in front of her and placed one hand on either of her knees which she had pulled up to her chest.

“Look at me Zosh,” he coaxed, and smiled gently when her eyes met his blue ones. She usually didn’t need an excuse to look at them, as she told him time and time again when they were in private. One time after a particularly fun night at Albie’s she had told him that she wanted him to wear sunglasses permanently because those baby blues were hers and no one else got to look at them.

“Now I want you to follow my breathing, “Oliver instructed, he took one of her hands in his and held it against his chest. He had never seen Zosia have a panic attack like this before. Whilst she didn’t like to talk much about her bipolar, especially the dark months before she was diagnosed, he had learnt a little about what she had went through. Thankfully, she hadn’t experienced many symptoms, especially after they had returned from their honeymoon, and so he hadn’t thought that his extensive reading into mental health would be needed. Sadly, it was becoming urgent now.

“In and out,” he breathed slowly in time with his words and watched as she slowly started to follow him. “That’s it, in and out.”

Eventually, Zosia started breathing more evenly. When he was sure that the worst was over Oliver raised her hand to his lips and kissed her wedding band.

“Thank you,” Zosia whispered.

“You never have to thank me,” Oliver instantly replied. “After everything that you’ve helped me through.”

Zosia smiled, “For better or worse?”

“Yeah,” Oliver agreed. “But we do need to talk.”

Zosia groaned. Oliver smiled. At least she was definitely all present now.

“Come on,” he helped her up. “I don’t have any time left on my break but I’m sure if we speak to Jac-”

“Don’t worry about it Valentine,” Jac pulled back the curtains of the cubicle. Oliver frowned. He hadn’t closed them.

“Just be back in time for your next op.” She instructed and immediately sauntered off as though she hadn’t seen one of her finest doctors in the midst of a panic attack and closed the curtains to give her privacy whilst her husband calmed her down.

Zosia merely smiled up at Oliver, putting them in a position that sent him straight back to their first kiss in the locker room. He smiled down at her in return, tucked that strand of hair behind her ear and lead her to the locker room.

Zosia faltered when they reached the door. She had been in there countless of times but he knew that the flashbacks she must have had must still be on her mind. He kissed her head, tightened his grip on her hand, and led her in.

They sat side by side both turned to the other. Oliver spoke first.

“I know we thought we had put that night behind us, but obviously we haven’t. I know that must scare you, but we can will work through it. First, I need you to tell me what triggered the attack?”

Zosia dropped her gaze from his but kept a hold of his hand. “I was checking Mr Stevens heart rate and he tried to touch me. I told him to stop, but he told me not to be so frumpy and tried again. When I pulled his hand away he reached up to touch my face, but when I told him to stop he grabbed my neck, and I punched him on the nose, and that’s when you came in.” Zosia looked up at Oliver and as though she was expecting him to attack her.

“I swear I’ll never let him anywhere near you again,” Oliver promised but Zosia shook her head.

“It wasn’t him that was the problem. Sure, he touched my neck and that’s assault so I won’t be treating him anyway, but I don’t think that was the trigger.” Zosia admitted.

“I don’t understand,” Oliver frowned, tightening his hold of her hand. It was then that he noticed the wet feeling of blood on it. Looking down he realised that her knuckles were smeared with red. It wasn’t her own he realised in relief, sure hers were bruised, and probably sore, but there weren’t any abrasions. No, the blood was Stevenson’s.

“I murdered him.” Zosia whispered. He wasn’t sure she had meant to say that out loud.

“No, you didn’t.” Oliver’s gaze snapped up to hers immediately. He was shocked to see that she looked close to tears. “Zosh it was self-defence, the courts agreed you did what you had to do to survive. He was going to kill you.”

Oliver knew for a fact that the last part was true. He had enough nightmares of finding her bleeding on the floor of the CEOs office, of her crumbling beside the lockers where he had found her that night, this time her dress not only ripped but covered in blood. He knew with everything in him that she could have died at Christian’s hands had she not acted as she had.

“If you hadn’t have come today, I might have killed Stevens too. He got a fright when the curtain opened I think he thought it was security. Or Jac.” Zosia spoke with such disgust in herself that Oliver felt his heart clench.

 “You wouldn’t have killed him.” He stated simply. He ran his thumb over her knuckles smudging the blood until it was gone. “He had you in a completely different way than what Tristian did. It was completely different and you know that. “

Zosia didn’t look at him. Instead she silently stared at her hand that he had wiped clean.

“Do you remember when I couldn’t remember you and you said you would remember everything, the good and the bad, for both of us?” Oliver asked.

Zosia gave the slightest hint of a nod.

“You helped me recover, you helped me see the light and you brought me back to you. Let me help you now. Let me remember everything that I know you are, the woman that is my wife, so that I can remind you every single day that she is brave and smart and selfless and most definitely not a killer.”

The tears that Zosia had blinked away now fell. He gently cupped her cheek with his hand to catch them. “Zosia, I want to help you, but you have to let me. You have to help yourself.”

Zosia nodded. “I’ll do anything.”

“Have you ever told anyone else that you felt like you killed Christian, the psychologist or occupational health?

Zosia confirmed his suspicions with a shake of the head.

“You knew they wouldn’t let you back to work if you did, didn’t you?”

“I trained to be one once remember? But you don’t need to have read the books or listened to the seminars to know that saying I feel like a killer but I want to go back to holding people’s hearts in my hand tomorrow isn’t going to provoke a reaction.” Zosia jibed.

Over the years they had become good at letting each other in, at not putting up so many walls. He spoke about Penny, and occasionally Tara, and she brought up nights in with Arthur and parts of her childhood with her mother. They told each other everything about their day. when they weren’t spending it together, but there were still some boxes trapping feelings and secrets filed away in their minds to protect their hearts from the pain. Oliver was making sure that his box opened.

“Okay I think you need to tell someone that.” He suggested.

“Oliver-” she tried to interrupt but he cut her off.

“No, I know you’re scared it’ll mean you won’t be allowed to work, but maybe that’s a good thing for a bit. We got married so fast, and then I got shot, and we only gave ourselves two weeks in the Bahamas to rest before we were right back here. So, let’s take some time. You can get the help you need, and I’ll look into picking up a new hobby like you’ve been telling me too. I might even get back into football.”

Zosia laughed at that, “You can’t keep up with _me_ one our runs Ollie.”

“Yeah well I’ll go running more first. The point is I think we should make life simple for a bit. Just me and you. Let’s find out who we are again and then we go back to holding hearts.” He nudged her with his shoulder when he said the last part. The action forced her to grab her stethoscope before it fell out of her pocket. He grinned as he saw it. “But you’ll never stop holding mine.”

Zosia rolled her eyes at her husband’s cheesiness but she smiled, and it felt like such a relief that she couldn’t stop it from growing bigger.

Oliver raised his eyebrows in question. “What do you say?”

“You’re a sap Mr Valentine. But, that sounds perfect.” Zosia admitted. She leant forward and their lips met. In the same spot where he had held a broken, terrified woman, he now held his wife and future happiness. They had made it.

 

 

 


End file.
